The End Result
by MapleleafCameo
Summary: Finally Sherlock gets to the end result of all of his experiments on John. The final story in The Experiment Series. You might want to read those first if you haven't. Humour AND Slash - who could ask for anything more! Rated M. Johnlock


**A/N: So for this one I totally gave up on word count!**

**I would once again like to thank the Ladies (if I can use that word;) of Mrs. Hudson's Kitchen for some of the suggestions and ideas used here. johnsarmylady is to thank for the use of 'gun oil' & Lucy36 for 'cheery, cherry flavoured red condoms'. You had to be there!**

**I have a note following about the use of gun oil, which you might find most amusing And I have thanked everyone who favoured, followed and reviewed the stories that came previously. If you haven't read the other four stories, starting with The Experiment, you really should.**

**Sadly I still do not own. It would be nice. Then the boys could come visit. Sigh.**

The End Result

The entire time Sherlock was massaging his shoulders and chest the _'I'm not gay'_ tune was playing in his head.

It changed to _I'm not gay, but this feels incredibly good_.

And then to _Oh god, still not gay, but I could be persuaded_.

To finally just plain, _Oh God!_

Coming out of the molten haze of relaxed muscles the last words spoken finally registered.

"Gun oil? Gun oil! Ummm…Sherlock? You can't seriously?…do?…what?….Gun oil?" the doctor in him was working frantically to shut up the little voice which was shouting in glee, _I'm going to have sex with Sherlock Holmes!_

_But you can't use gun oil that is ludicrous totally not safe and a little weird and why am I turned on by the thought of gun oil? _

_Because your going to have sex with Sherlock. Wheeeeeee!_

"John?"

"Yes?" he managed to spit out while his brain was attempting to continue two conversations and listen to Sherlock at the same time. It was important to listen. He might miss something vital. Like when they were going to remove their clothes.

"You've turned an odd colour. Are you all right?" the detective's eyes gleamed at John, half concerned, half filled with lust.

"Ummm…you know we can't use real gun oil right? I mean you…oh dear god…how do I ask this?" He pinched the bridge of his nose in a familiar gesture. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone assume I'm a virgin? Yes, John, I have had sex before. Plenty of hot, amazing, extraordinary sex. I just choose not to because it interferes with my thought process. But every now and then I need a release. I have been observing you, deduced you would be amiable to an assignation. I thought since you were not seeing anyone and you were obviously interested, I'd see what all the fuss was about. You are surprisingly popular. I wanted to see you naked and basically have sex with you. I like you, you're nearby and we should be fairly compatible."

Ignoring the odd flutter in his lower extremities when Sherlock intoned the words 'hot, amazing, extraordinary sex' in that smoky, dark velvet voice of his, John asked, "But then why do you want to get gun oil?"

"Oh, for heavens sake! Look, go into the bedroom, strip off your clothes, wait patiently on the bed and I'll be right there."

"Hold it! Hold it! Do we need to go over the seducing part again? You can't just tell me to strip and wait patiently."

"I can't?" Sherlock looked extremely puzzled. "It's worked with the others."

"Whoa, hold it right there. Okay, maybe ordering people around and telling them to strip down works fine for other people but not me. I like a little foreplay and consideration. This is what I was trying to tell you. You can't just…just…jump someone."

Sherlock huffed, "Fine. Alright. Just go and wait for me in there."

He went away muttering under his breath. John meanwhile was beginning to wonder if this was worth all of the effort. But he thought about long expanses of neck and a firm arse and the way those incredibly fingers had worked the tension out of his neck and shoulders and his mind flowed in a downward direction and he went and waited in the bedroom.

Sherlock returned in a moment to find John lying on the bed, leaning up on his elbow, shoes off, looking expectantly at the door. He came to a startling conclusion. John was right. He was wearing the oatmeal jumper and his jeans and there was a part of Sherlock that wanted to leisurely remove every article of clothing. He had glimpses of the man and now he wanted to unwrap him like a perfect piece of chocolate. Peel him back and find the soft, chewy centre inside.

"Sherlock? You're drooling!"

Sherlock carefully wiped his mouth and prowled closer to the bed. That was the only word John could use to describe what Sherlock was doing, prowl. He was looking at John like he was the tastiest morsel he'd ever seen. He felt his heart rate increase even more, if that was possible. _So not going to have a heart attack right here. That would be awkward!_ _And a bit embarrassing. Oh god, how to explain this to the paramedics!_

"You're not having a heart attack, John."

John didn't even bother to ask any more.

Fortunately at that moment, the objects in Sherlock's hands diverted his attention. He had a small box in the one hand. It looked like a mail order package. In the other was John's can of gun oil. His eyebrows rose.

Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed near John and placed the can of gun oil on the bedside table. He then carefully opened the package. Out fell a small blue bottle with an orange lid. John could make out the words GUN OIL in large letters in a catchy bullet-ridden font. The words Personal Lube were under the name and he thought he could make out the words _Ideal for your on-going re-entry to target. _ His breath stilled, but something was definitely wide-awake in front of his trousers.

Sherlock looked into John's eyes. There is nothing more powerfully erotic then when the world's smartest man turns his full gaze on you. John couldn't move if he wanted to and he didn't want to. Sherlock took the can of gun oil, the real gun oil and carefully took off the lid. He placed it on the table. He then did the same for the bottle of lube. At this point John didn't care if Sherlock got out a bottle of olive oil. He was pretty much prepared to do anything.

His heart stuttered to a stop and picked up pace again when Sherlock opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a condom package. A small part of his brain registered the fact that it was bright red in colour.

Sherlock turned and leaned into John, his long fingers cupped John's face, stroking gently and he pulled the shorter man into a kiss. John had never kissed another man before, but it wasn't just about the kiss with Sherlock. Kissing Sherlock was like kissing a piece of the cosmos or the ocean or an earthquake. The feelings it evoked were bottomless and wide and vast and infinitely scary. He also got the distinct sensation that every touch, pressure point, application of lips and tongue was being analyzed and stored in that great, beautiful, erotic brain of his. Something swelled in John's heart, threatening to overflow. These feelings could not be contained in such a small space.

Sherlock pulled back and smiled lazily at John, his eyes half lidded. _He did have a point_, he thought, _it's much more intriguing to do this slowly._

John was thinking, _Gah!? _And then perhaps a little more coherently._ Still not gay. Just hot for Sherlock._

John sat up a bit and leaned into Sherlock and grabbed the back of his head, fingers clutching the riot of curls. Sherlock was attempting to pull the jumper up off of John's frame. He broke off the kiss and tugged abruptly.

John, mouthful of wool, swore and then pulled Sherlock back, hanging on like a man drowning.

Sherlock, with his precise and methodical way, slowly unfastened each and every button on John's shirt, all the while tantalizingly tonguing John's mouth, mapping every nook and cranny. He carefully pulled the shirt off of the other man's shoulders and began to run his hands up John's chest. He stopped abruptly and cracked an eye open. _A vest, too? Is he kidding? How cold is he?_

He pulled his mouth back with a distinctive popping sound. John flailed forward trying to reattach himself to Sherlock's lush, plump lips. Sherlock placed a hand on John's chest and held him in place, pinned with a steely eye. And then he reached down and tugged off the vest a little more gently than his attempt on the jumper.

John meanwhile turned so he was up on his knees, sitting on his feet and his brain clicked in that it was time for Sherlock to be equally unclad. He made swift work of the buttons on his shirt. Sherlock shuddered and gasped as icy fingers brushed bare skin. _He really is freezing! _ He stopped kissing John long enough to capture his hands in his own and slowly warm them one at a time. He then took John's hands and placed them back on his chest. John sculpted and explored and played with the defined muscles there, pausing at each nipple to tweak and tease. Sherlock gasped again but this time in desire rather than shock. The doctor did seem to know what he was doing.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulled him into a tight embrace. The sensation of their skin touching was almost overwhelming. John stopped kissing long enough to inhale and then began attacking the long expanse of skin in front of him. Sherlock titled his head back and let the shorter man ravage his neck. His hands, having a life of their own, managed to work their way to the front of John's trousers and unbuckled his belt, popped the button and unzipped the zip. He pushed down on the top of the trousers and skimmed the front of John's pants. John made small, incoherent sounds against Sherlock's neck. Sherlock surmised that John rather liked this sensation so he followed through with a more comprehensive and occupied touch.

John reciprocated the favour. Before either man was fully aware they were both naked. John sat back a bit to survey the man in front of him. He swept his eyes down and around and back up to Sherlock's face.

"Gorgeous," he said, his voice husky.

"John, you are rather appealing yourself."

John giggled a bit and then gently pushed Sherlock back onto the bed. Sherlock briefly fought him long enough to grab the items on the table. John looked at the gun oil. He looked at Sherlock. He looked back at the gun oil.

Sherlock cleared his throat and a faint blush crept over his pearly skin, making it a lovely rosy hue, "Sometimes when you are cleaning your gun," he cleared his throat again, "sometimes it makes me think things. It was the catalyst for me wishing to see you naked. I was wondering, if you don't mind, if a sprayed a little on you." He paused and looked up at John. "I like the smell. It smells like you."

John was dumbfounded. Then he giggled a bit more, hoping Sherlock realized it was a reflex and not that he was giggling at him. Sherlock blushed a bit deeper, but seemed to be able to read John's intent. John leaned forward and gave Sherlock and almost chaste kiss.

"Alright," he breathed.

Sherlock shook the can and spritzed a little bit onto John's forearm. He tossed the can over his shoulder and it thumped to the floor. He then grabbed John's arm and inhaled deeply. The slowly indolent smile that had been hovering there earlier returned and he snatched John back into a deep kiss.

Although both men in some way, shape or form had long desired this particular moment, there was no hurry. They explored and played and revealed in each other's bodies and enjoyed the here and the now of the experience. Finally, when it became too much and things were heated and hazy and breathless, when the peak was nearing, Sherlock ripped open the condom package with his teeth and tenderly, enticingly placed it upon John. John glanced down.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Yes, " Sherlock breathed into his ear, nibbling.

"It's red."

Sherlock pulled back a bit.

"Yes, I know. I thought it would suit your personality."

John was on the verge of giggling a bit louder and possibly longer than he had all night.

"My personality?'

"Yes. It's… cheery!"

"Ummm…why is there a smiley face on it?"

Sherlock beamed, "Same thing! Oh and it's cherry flavoured."

John looked down at the bright cherry red condom with the yellow smiley face. It was a tad disconcerting.

However…

John had faced far greater foes than using a novelty condom. He bit his lip hard. A stray giggle escaped and wrapped around the two friends now lovers and John looked back up into the grey-green of Sherlock's bottomless eyes.

John rolled over onto his back. He pulled Sherlock on top of him, placed his face lovingly between his hands and kissed him soundly. Sherlock grinned cheekily and carefully lowered himself upon John. The two joined as one and there was only the sound of gasps and deep hurried breathing. There were sighs and touches and John caressed and stroked Sherlock, trying not to lose himself in his own pleasure, wanting to be there for Sherlock's as well.

Too soon and yet not soon enough, John felt all of the emotions and feelings and the pure thought of the fact he was deep inside Sherlock combine and roll through his body and at that moment he could not hold back and he came. Sherlock looking down and seeing John below him was not far behind.

After, lying side by side, wrapped up in each other, in arms and legs and thoughts, Sherlock snuggled down, resting his head upon John's right shoulder. John, in the after glow of some of the best sex of his life, arm around Sherlock, ran his hand up and down the long, graceful back and rested his chin on top of his head.

They were quiet for a long moment.

Then…

"John?"

"Mmmm, yes," came a sleepy reply.

"Are you sorry that I experimented on you?"

Sherlock felt John smile as he place a tender kiss on top of his head.

"No, Sherlock. I'm not. It was probably one of the best ideas you've ever had."

"Good, because I had this thought…"

**A/N: So that is the end. As of this moment I do not have any more stories planned for this. Sorry!**

**I googled Gun Oil to find out a little bit more about it & the first thing that came up was an add for Gun Oil Lube - & here I thought I was more worldly than that – so the advertisement & description is true to form! I can not make this up!**

**I would like to thank all of the wonderful people who have been favouring, following and especially reviewing. Reviewing really is like chocolate people (or for you patemalah21 – chocolate covered Benedict Cumberbatch pole dancing- hee hee). I have been inspired by so many reviews – if you give me inspiration I will thank you so many times!**

**First of all to mattsloved1 and SniperKingSogeKig0341 – both who inspired so much of this story! Blessing on you both. Then to the Lovely Ladies of the Forum! johnsarmylady. Ennui Enigma, patemalah21, thedragonaunt (I am corrupting you), jack63kids (you'll get around to reading this- never fear!), Lucy36, TheGameMrsHudsonIsAfoot, lady in training SecretMoustache 2 and the rest of you lovely ladies!**

**And to Old Ping Hai, junejuly15, jujulib63, not telling the unknown, charlock221, guest (thanks!), Porkii, Puggle, Ashray1, ZachAbrams, Akemi713, SasssyVeeDub, ThePandoricaWillOpen, Mzzmarie, guest (thanks!), LastSaskatchewanSpacePirate, LittleMissNerdy, brianime,Novoux, Charlie Chaos, Violette1415, Noodles4life, Candace Caden, Professor CatEars, acciodearstalker, Sendai, XoXBlueZinnyaXoX, skywalkerr, xSommerRegen, BlackPanzy, Deghr agus Brn, hoopla92 (would have loved to have thanked you but your PM is disabled), starrysummernights,zechirator, bykora**

**If I forgot anyone please forgive me and if I messed up your name, please forgive me. They are such wonderful and interesting names!**


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